


Tall Tails

by Neaislove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Librarian Derek, M/M, MERMAID STILES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:37:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neaislove/pseuds/Neaislove
Summary: The Warsaw Mermaid is a point of contention in Stiles' pod. He decides he should probably head topside to set some things straight.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aredblush](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aredblush/gifts).



> To [Aredblush](www.aredblush.tumblr.com) who wanted mermaids and clothes sharing.

A degree in Library Sciences got you very little in Beacon Hills. Coupled with a degree in Mythological Studies it got you a chance to work in the Library. Emphasis on Library duly intended. The Hedgewitch Library boasted the largest collection of Supernatural works in California. Most were gathered by the group of Hedge Witches who came to Beacon Hills in the mid 1800's. They bought, stole, and bartered their way through the literary world and gathered everything they could get their hands on.

There were old journals that detailed meetings of the first vampires. There was a clay box filled to the brim with instructions on how to construct a golem. There were works written in the original language of the Fae and a story book written by an Unseelie Prince. There were works from Derek's own family. Closer to the entrance of the basement, where all of the rare works were held, there were four books penned by the first Hales to immigrate from Mexico.

Derek liked to flip through them now and again, to try and catch a glimpse of himself in the penmanship. To him, reading these books, tending to them and keeping them safe, was an important job. He was protecting the past. He was ensuring that someone else could some day see these books and find joy.

Most of his pack didn't understand his obsession. There were days he felt like he could be entirely content to just sit in the stacks forever without ever seeing another person. Then the longing would start and he'd drag himself home and cuddle up to whomever was still awake. By now the smell of old paper and stale air had become apart of him. On the rare occasions he felt lonely, truly lonely, he liked to think there was a match out there for him. Someone who smelt like ink, someone who'd want to live in his little world of books with him.

Lost in a very exaggerated story by a troll's handmaiden Derek didn't hear anyone come into the library. Upstairs there was only one full time librarian, an old human woman named Vivian. But today she had two student helpers from the high school. Usually Vivian kept curious wanderers away from the entrance to the basement. Due to the sensitive nature of the books, both in material and age, you needed special permission to get access. Derek was the only librarian actually allowed in the basement full time.

"Stop." Derek tipped his head to listen. The footsteps halted on the stairs. He left his chair, carefully marking his spot in the book and closing it. The closer he got to the stairs, the more confused he became. The smell of salt water clogged the air, carrying with it a faint hint of exhaust. "This is the restricted section."

"Okay dude, I'm waiting."

Derek huffs. He's not in the mood to deal with teenagers and their blatant disrespect for books. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No?" The boy outside the door shuffles. "I wanted to talk to the book guy. The head librarian guy."

"That would be me. I'm and Archival Librarian."

"Cool beans man." The guy bent at the waist, bringing his face into view at the top of the door. It also conveniently brought his hands in front of his very naked groin.

"Sir!" Derek sucked in a deep breath and rushed to open the security door. He fumbled in front of the young man, unsure if he should be offering help or trying to call the police. "Clothes."

"Oh yeah." The young man scratches the back of his head and chuckles. This shows off miles of new skin, including a shiny patch of scales winding their way across his pelvis. The way he shook his head caught the light on the few scales scattered across his cheek and jawbone. "Clothes are a big deal up here."

"Up here? How did you even--" Derek stopped himself and began unbuttoning his cardigan. He quickly slides it off of his shoulders and hurries up to meet the boy. Nudity among werewolves is a non-issue and Derek has seen his fair share of bare, strange flesh but this is his place of work. He throws his cardigan across the boy's shoulder's, ignoring his confused look. "Please, put this on." Derek steps past him to block his naked skin from the other library patrons.

"I'll all buttoned up, I think."

Derek takes a cautious look over his shoulder to see that the boy is indeed buttoned up. He turns, still blocking as much as possible. "Why were you naked? How did you get inside naked?"

"There was no one at the door? And I got a ride. My friend has a van."

"A van?"

The boy grins. "Yeah dude, a big van. Or a small bus. Bug? I don't know. I laid down while he drove."

Derek takes a deep breath and crosses his arms. This is the type of meeting that makes him want to go back to his books. "What was so important that you needed to come to the library naked?"

"Oh yeah dude," the boy claps his hands together once then fans them out while wiggling his fingers, "I'm here for you. To talk to you."

"Me?"

"Yeah man, you're the Head Librarian."

"Archivist."

"Yeah that, and I want you to archive something for me."

Derek sighs. Although he wants to send this boy away, it wouldn't be right. He's man enough to admit that this boy is very attractive and obviously not all there. Turning him away could get him hurt. "Right this way." Derek slowly heads up the stairs, keeping an ear on the other patrons. At the landing he catches Vivian's eye and nods his head towards the private study rooms. The boy hovers close to him, a breath away from hooking his chin over his shoulder.

With a hand at the small of his back, Derek guides the boy to the nearest private room and gets him settled. "What's your name?"

"Stiles."

"Stiles?"

"Yeah man." The boy, Stiles, bobs his head and starts drumming his fingers across the tabletop. "I'm Stiles and you're Hale. A Hale? A wolf anyways."

He tips his head in acknowledgement. Rather than sit, he stands across the table with his arms crossed. "I'm Derek Hale. You still haven't told me what you want."

"I did dude. I want you to archive something for me. I was talking and figured out you're the guy to go to for special books and stuff. I want you to make a book or help me make a book for your special collection." Stiles folds his arms across the table top and smiles up at him. "You guys have this Warsaw Mermaid story all wrong okay and my Babica can't get around on land like she use to. So I thought I'd do the legwork and get this all sorted out you know? Like, I use to read a lot of stuff about humans that was way wrong but I was able to find a lot of stuff to sort out the lies you know. I wasn't able to find a lot about my people. Not right stuff anyways."

"A Merfolk? I--", Derek's mouth drops open in astonishment and hurries to seat himself across from Stiles. "I don't know where to start. Is Merfolk right? Merperson?"

"Either I guess? I don't know. My pod doesn't really care. I think it's a personal preference though."

"That's...that's great. Really, let me go get my laptop. I'll be right back, please stay."

"Sure dude."

Derek was a little overwhelmed. Merfolk weren't known to be forthcoming. They were one of the few creatures who maintained their original language and script, untouched by time. It was mostly due to their isolation. Merfolk works were written with magic deep underwater along rocks. The words looked bio-luminescent and refused to show up clearly for photo's. Well, for the few that had been taken anyways. Learning their spoken language was impossible because of how closely it mimicked whale song.

There were different breeds of Merfolk too. The farther down in the depths they lived, the less humanoid they looked. Moving from the more ideal cinema version most people are familiar with to black skinned, bio-luminescent, figures with spiked backs and frail fin like hands. It was like comparing a kelpie to a horse. Stiles was very rare indeed if he was what he said he was. Merfolk with the ability to walk on land were few and far between. Derek never thought he'd be presented with the opportunity to make his own offering to the collection.

He collected his laptop from behind the counter and told Vivian he had an important visitor. The student helpers on staff would be more than enough to get her through the rest of the day. When he got back to the study room Stiles was standing again, running his long pale fingers across the spines of the books left behind by careless patrons. "I'm back." He holds his laptop aloft for a second before crossing to the table to set it up.

Stiles spins away from the books and bobs his head. "There's some cool stuff here. I miss paper books man. You Topsiders are switching to power up books right? Digital copies?"

"Some people. As long as libraries exist we'll maintain paper copies. They're important." For a second Stiles stared at him, with almost a look of shock. The moment passed quickly and he plopped down into the seat across from Derek.

"That's cool man. I can work with paper stuff but those little slate things?"

"Tablets."

"Yeah, those. Can't do it man. I ruined two of Scott's. He's the guy who drove me up. We met when he crashed a surf board into my forehead. Cool dude. Not a good breather though."

"That's...", Derek cleared his throat, "unfortunate." He trailed off awkwardly, unable to bring himself to demand actual information. He desperately wanted to know anything of worth Stiles would tell him but he didn't want to offend by demanding answers. "The Warsaw Mermaid?"

Stiles sucked in a breath and let it out with a laugh. "Oh yeah, the Warsaw Mermaid. So Babica is super pissed about this okay. My pod is originally from Poland. We still migrate there sometimes when the water feels right. Anyways, it's this huge thing to her that the Warsaw Mermaid isn't actually a mermaid. She was a Chimera technically. She had some Siren in her. But way less than some other pods do. So, yeah I was hoping you could help me write some of this stuff down because it's really important to my Babica that Topsiders stop calling her a mermaid."

"Do you not want to be called mermaids at all? And what is the Warsaw Mermaid?" Derek feels a little out of his depth and the slightest bit ashamed that he has no idea what Stiles is talking about. During college he'd only glanced over water mythicals. He hadn't wanted to become frustrated with the lack of substantial information and kept away from it.

Stiles slumped a little in his seat, letting out a puff of breath. Derek could practically smell the disappointment coming off of him. "Uh, mermaid is okay I guess. I don't know. But the Warsaw Mermaid is this legend in Poland about a mermaid who fell in love with a sailor and stayed in Warsaw to protect the town after he died. I thought maybe you'd be familiar with it."

"No, but I'd love to hear more. I'll copy it down and the corrections if you'd like. The legend and your Babica's story." Derek straightened up, tilting the lid down on his computer to get a fuller look at Stiles. "It's important, whatever you have to say, whatever your Babica had to say. We don't know a lot about your people. The basement I was in, it's full of books, full of stories. Most of them are the only copies in the world. And they only exist because someone took the time to write them down. There's centuries worth of information down there about our pasts and what helped shaped our society.

"People take for granted a lot of information because its been there for as long as they could remember. But it wasn't always like that and right now Merfolk are still a big mystery and--" Stiles shot across the desk and covered Derek's mouth with his hand. It smelt like salt and something else. Derek could almost put his finger on it.

"Okay wolf man, I'm sold." Stiles smirked at him and relaxed back in his seat. The faded black cardigan bunched around his shoulders, popping the collar out and giving Derek a glimpse of another wayward scale. It glinted in the light of the little desk lamp next to them. Stiles seemed to notice his wandering eye and scratched at the edge of his scale, self conscious. "Yeah, I've never been great at shaking them?"

"You can remove them all?"

"Well I can't. My mother could will them all away once she was dry. I still can't and I've been making land trips since I was five or so. Babica has the same problem." Stiles rubs across his chest more firmly, his fingers dipping under the neckline of the cardigan over his scales.

"I use to get my teeth stuck." Derek isn't sure why he offers the information. During his preteen years Derek's teeth problem had been the absolute delight of his sister's lives. For very different reasons. Laura teased him over it mercilessly because he own shift had come as easily as breathing. Cora had found it cute, often times demanding that he growl at her or read her stories to hear the lisp. "My sister still laughs about it sometimes."

Despite the small rush of embarrassment, Derek was glad he shared. The nervousness seemed to melt off of Stiles, bringing the wide smile back to his face. "Do you have a big family? Wolves have packs right?"

"I have a large family, two sisters and one brother. But I have lots of cousins and aunts and uncles. We're pack because we're family but you don't have to be family to be pack. A bite creates a pack bond. But so can closeness. Relationships and friendships can create pack bonds." While Derek talks Stiles begins leaning in close, obviously eager to hear more. "I can take you to meet them if you'd like. After you tell me about Warsaw."

"Yeah man, I'd like that. Mostly we learn about humans. There's not a lot of stuff to read down there about other kinds of Topsiders." Stiles leans back a little in his chair, as if to give himself some room, and starts his story. "So this Chimera named Radomila met a sailor in the Baltic Straight. Babica says sailors use to take their boats back and forth looking for merfolk. They thought we'd sleep with them I think. Babica says it was a big pain in the ass and that the pirates were way more polite, mostly because they were scared. But pirates respected the sea and treated merfolk like royalty or something. There was this one story about a pirate hat and a jar of hair..." Stiles cleared his throat.

"Um, anyways, Radomila saw this sailor rowing through the straight on a life boat and lured him to some rocks. She was going to eat him but something was wrong about his smell. She figured she needed to sniff on him some more to make sure she wouldn't get sick. And they got to talking and fell in love I guess. Then he goes off to war and dies and she stayed and waited for him."

Derek nodded and typed as Stiles spoke, copying word for word. His explanation wasn't much in the way of description. It was more of an anecdote than a story but if he could get Stiles to agree they could embellish it. Maybe commission some illustrations. "Was that--?"

"Oh man, no, no, there's like an actual story. Babica use to tell it to me all the time. I was just trying to get it out first." Stiles smacks his hands on the edge of the table, beating out a little rhythm. He smiled awkwardly at Derek, rolling his lips in a little. "This was just sort of an impulse you know? Scott was at the beach and we'd talked about this before. And he mentioned this guy who kept legends and stuff at the library, you. And he said we should just go for it and yeah. I'm here."

Derek runs his fingers softly over the keys of his laptop, considering his reply. He doesn't want to assume that because Stiles is a Merperson he'll just suddenly disappear into the waves, but he also doesn't want to assume Stiles will hang around for however long it will take to get the information he wants. "Do you...have somewhere to stay?" He looks up at Stiles discreetly. Taking Stiles home with him would be inviting him quite literally into a wolves den. But he did have somewhere else the boy could stay. For as long as he needed.

"Oh, I uh, hadn't thought that far." Stiles chuckles and smacks out a quick beat on the table.

"I have a place." He looks Stiles directly in the face now, willing his usual scowl to be something more approachable. "A loft I use for work. You'd have privacy."

"Does it have a bath?"

"It's more like a giant metal bucket, but yes."

"Dude I'll take it. It'd suck to ride back and forth every day." The admission that he'd intended to come back every day softened Derek a little. He was sure it had to do with the things he'd learn; with the contribution he'd be able to make. The fact that he found Stiles not wholly unattractive was an afterthought, mostly.

* * *

The walk to the apartment is slow. Mostly because Derek keeps pulling Stiles to the side to keep him hidden from prying eyes. While Stiles is the same height, he lacks bulk. Which means the cardigan is just baggy enough to cover his groin, but barely.

"Do you walk everywhere? Most Topsiders have cars right?"

"I like to walk. But I do have a car. The fresh air is just nice." Beside him Stiles hums in agreement. They'd spoken a little more about Stiles' grandmother back at the library, and about some of the things she wanted corrected. He found out that Stiles liked curly fries and black coffee. And that he met Scott when the boy accidentally peed on him as a child. "How does Scott know me?" Derek puts his hand against the small of Stiles' back and guides him to the side of his building. He kicks aside some broken glass and urges him safely around it.

"Oh uh, something with work. He works with a Druid. Who's also a vet. He said that guy mentioned you."

Derek furrows his brow. "Deaton?" He watches as Stiles shrugs. "He's an emissary."

"If you say so." Stiles snorts and hurries up the stairs to press his nose into the frosted glass in the hallway. The view is nothing interesting really, it's not even the highest point of the building. But Stiles had been enraptured by a lot of small things along the way. Instead of trying to pull him away Derek simply passes him and heads up to his loft. The building is empty at the moment. The top floor belongs to him but his siblings come and use the other floors occasionally for parities.

He slides open his door and takes a quick look over everything. There's still a blanket draped over the couch from the last time he fell asleep there. The bed he never managed to drag upstairs is neatly made. There's books scattered all across the coffee table and kitchen counter, organised to the train of thought he'd been on when he'd put them down.  
"Cool digs." Stiles practically sprints past him in a wave of salty air. Derek has to quickly turn his head to avoid seeing his butt creep out from under the cardigan as he bends to look at the coffee table. "Can I read these or do I need a card?"

Derek clears his throat and strides towards the couch to clean up a little. "You can read them. Anything you'd like."

"Dude, sweet." He plucks a book off the table and spins around Derek to plop down on the couch. The cardigan does absolutely nothing to cover his groin now that it's trapped against the small of his back. For a second Derek gets lost looking at the coppery green scales snaking across his thighs. Stiles pays him no mind, already lost in the book.

"Well, there's towels in the bathroom. I'll bring you down some sweats. You can order anything you'd like from here." Derek picks up a handful of take out menus from the side table and carefully tucks them into a neat stack. "They have my card on file."

"Are you...", Stiles has put the book aside. He tucks himself up on the couch and twists to look at Derek. "I thought you'd stay. I don't talk to a lot of Topsiders."

"Right, we're as much a mystery to you right?" Derek tries to tramp down the disappointment that Stiles isn't necessarily interested in him. It's fine. They've only known each other for a day. It's hard to hang onto the sting when Stiles smiles softly at him and pats the space on the couch next to him.

"I'll tell you about my scales if you show me your wolf face." It turns out Stiles' father is human but he's not sure who it is. It's easier for Merfolk with human blood to gain their legs but it comes with the trade off of being slower swimmers, something about their internal bone structure. Stiles rattles it off in great detail that Derek can't always follow. Stiles seems equally enthralled to learn about where Derek's eyebrows go and how good his eyesight is. They talk for so long Derek has to cook them omelets because nothing is open.

The days stretch on and Stiles stays in the loft. Derek starts driving to work and home so the trips are quicker. He wants to squeeze every moment out of the day so he can spend it with Stiles. The Warsaw Mermaid story has been almost entirely forgotten at this point. Occasionally Stiles will bring it up but he'll ultimately get lost on tangents and then they're talking about the differences between Chinese and Japanese folklore. Stiles is endlessly captivated by 'Topsider' knowledge. It feels like he's read nearly every book in the loft in a week.

His smell is starting to sink into the furniture, in the worn wood under the industrial windows, into the threadbare sheets, into his favorite corner of the couch. It's starting to feel more like home than the pack house. Derek's just finished work and he's rushing straight to the loft. His parents have decided to stop being nosy about the whole thing.

"Stiles, I'm back." Derek drapes his bag and cardigan over a side table and heads further into the loft. Stiles is upstairs shuffling around. He toes off his shoes and heads over to the couch, sitting just as Stiles comes down the stairs.

"Hey Dude." Stiles looks like he's just woken up, despite the fact that there's no bed upstairs. He's still wearing Derek's clothes, when he bothers at all. In the past week Derek has been able to memorise each and every scale. Stiles wads up the sleeve of Derek's beige knit pullover and rubs it across his face. "You're back early."

"We had a lot of student workers today."

Stiles slumps down onto the couch, easily tucking himself into Derek's side like it's natural. He seems to like tops just fine, but pants are a battle only conceded to when going out to eat. He says they feel too constricting. "I was thinking about going out."

"It's a little early for dinner."

"No, I meant to a store. Thrift store maybe, so they're soft." Stiles stretches out his legs and spreads his toes. "If I'm going to wear clothes I want them broken in." Derek stills underneath of him. This is really the first indication that Stiles may want to stay at least semi-permanently. Until now Derek has just been living day to day, hoping Stiles is still here when he comes in.

"You want to get clothes?"

"Yeah, I like your stuff but maybe I could get something baggy. Some jackets or flannels or something." He tips his head up to get a better look at Derek's face. When Derek remains silent Stiles begins to doubt himself. He tugs away just a fraction, unwilling to really part with him. "Unless...you don't want me to stay?"

"No." Derek grabs Stiles' arm as he tries to pull away. "No, I meant yes. Yes I want you to stay." He lets go of Stiles' arm and tries to turn towards him without pulling away too much. He ends up with Stiles balancing himself with a hand on his knee. Derek tries not to let the warmth distract him. "I...I love books. I love my job at the library. I love that I don't have to deal with a lot of people." Before pressing on Derek puts his hand over Stiles' to keep him from pulling away. It's hard to get out what he wants to say because he's always just been that way and let people think what they want.

"When you came to the library I thought we'd talk once and you'd leave. And I was fine with that. But instead of leaving you came home with me. I've talked more with you this week than I did in my entire senior year of college." He starts rubbing his thumb across the skin of Stiles' hand. He can't look at his face right now so he's focusing on the zip of the pullover. He can just see the edge of a scale poking out and it's keeping him focused. "I'd like to keep talking with you. And having dinner with you. I'd like...I like having you around. I don't know how long Merpeople live. I don't know what their feelings are, what your feelings are, about being with other Supernaturals. But I'd like to try it. I'd like to try...with you. If you'll stay."

Derek takes a deep breath and drops his gaze down to their hands. He's not sure that he'll get to see again so he tries to commit it to memory.

"Derek?" Stiles gently pulls his hand free. But before Derek can mourn its loss Stiles is bringing his hands up to cup his jaw. "Merpeople are pretty selfish creatures. We tend to just take what we want." While he speaks he inches closer until he's practically whispering into Derek's mouth. There's a second where neither of them move. Derek feels like he can't breathe for how elated he is. Then Stiles pushes forward. He's awkward, never having done it before. He probably digs his fingers to much into Derek's face and he doesn't know if he can move his knees without damaging something sensitive.

But Derek doesn't seem to mind. He arms snake out around Stiles' waist and tugs him in. He pulls his mouth to the side and starts rubbing his stubble across Stiles' cheek. The difference between scale and skin is odd, nothing Derek ever thought he'd feel. He tucks his face to Stiles' cheek, kissing across the skin and scales across his cheek down to his neck. Stiles' fingers tighten around his middle as he makes a choking noise. Derek takes it as a sign to slow down. He keeps Stiles tucked against him, with his own nose buried deep in his neck. He lets himself linger there, inhaling the heavy salt scent and something else.

Underneath that and the musty smell of his own pullover Derek smells ink. It's faint and tangy, different than the inks that surround him at work. But it feels right, smells right. Like Stiles was suppose to find him. Derek pulls away, moving until he can press his forehead to Stiles'. "Werewolves are selfish about their lovers. Very exclusive. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Dude, I asked if you could take me to buy pants. That's pretty serious." Stiles smirks at him for a second. Then they're both laughing, in relief and joy. Maybe they're not on their way to a new mermaid legend but Derek feels pretty confident that they're starting something amazing.

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles overuses 'dude' because he's constantly surrounded by surfer dudes on the beach.
> 
> Also I went through three different versions of this mermaid story and wrote about 1/2 to a third of each and if Aredblush would like those snippets, or if you guys would, I can post those later.


End file.
